Winds of Change
by Rissa the Jedi
Summary: Harry snaps. Draco returns. ::DISCONTINUED::
1. Revenge

I own nothing, except for my words, analogies, and plotline. Everything but the characters and setting. I'm only going to say that once, so make sure you paid attention.

If I catch you stealing my story, I'll hunt you down and rape you up the poop chute. Don't doubt me, I will. If you want to do a spin off of my story, just email me and ask.

As a forewarning, I don't want any bitching about girls getting hurt in this. If girls can hit guys, I don't see why guys can't hit girls back. It's justice. I don't want to hear about it.

I welcome flames. I like them. They're amusing to me.

There WILL be slash, hopefully in chapter four. But I'm not into giggly, fluffy slash. I'm into realistic slash, which needs to grow on both parties, then nag them until they simply -must- do something about it. This fic features a GOOD Draco and Harry who finally snaps.

There are SPOILERS in this fic for Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince! There. That was your warning. Don't complain about how you didn't know so and so killed so and so and I killed the book for you. I couldn't care less.

This fic was not meant for children's eyes. It has messy deaths, rape, swears, and man-sex in it. But then again, I've been reading R rated fics since I was 13. Whatev.

This was beta'd by the lovely Heather "Fuzzy". I freaking love her.

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Harry James Potter was furious. Not just any kind of furious, but the maddening, spitting fury that consumes the whole body with white flames of rage. And this fury came from none other than that fat old windbag sitting in the far corner of the room cackling madly.

He lay face-up on his bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to quell the beast within him. He was slick with sweat, wet tendrils of his unwashed hair sticking to his forehead. His nose itched. He could not scratch it.

Again and again, for the hundredth time this morning, he twisted his wrists back and forth, the rope expertly tied around them burning painfully. He moved his knees upward slightly, the cuffs secured around his ankles biting into his skin. He relaxed again, blinking at the ceiling once more.

His uncle sat around ten feet away, giggling like a mad little schoolgirl. He wasn't exactly sure what was wrong with him; either he'd finally snapped, or he was under the Imperius. He was leaning towards the former. He woke up at around 4 this morning, like he usually did, to do his summer schoolwork. Just because he had dropped out of Hogwarts after Dumbledore's death didn't mean that he could go around without any proper schooling. He'd gone to get up, and then realized that he'd been trussed to the bed like a pig ripe for slaughter.

He chewed on his gag thoughtfully. Not because he was trying to escape, he was just terribly, terribly bored. He didn't fear for his life; Vernon never actually went farther than beatings. He didn't mind the beatings for that matter, either. He'd become nearly immune to them. Yes, they hurt, but he'd just kind of... retreat into himself, and all he had to deal with was the soreness afterwards.

He was shirtless, for that was the way he slept, which bothered him in a way. When tied to a bed by an insane fat man, one wishes to be fully clothed. But, per usual, he ignored the nagging embarrassment, and waited for his uncle to make his first move.

"You awake, boy?"

Harry snorted. Of course he was awake. He had been for hours. His eyes had been wide open, and he'd been moving about. He wished he didn't have the gag on, to make a witty comeback, but alas, Vernon didn't seem inclined to be doing him any favors.

"Answer me!" The irritated tone rang in his ears, sharply rattling his nerves. He turned his head to the side and glared at him. Idiot.

As if reading his thoughts, Vernon got up, and smacked him across the face. He tasted blood in his mouth. He ripped off the gag, and threw it aside. Kneeling beside the mattress, he gripped Harry's face in his right hand, a mere two inches from his nose.

"You're pathetic, boy."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So you've told me. But see, if I wanted to attack you, I wouldn't tie you up in your sleep, I'd come at you head on. Seems to me that you're the pathetic one here."

Vernon snarled. "I don't know where your damned wand is. I don't tolerate that 'abracadabra' mumbo-jumbo."

Harry pulled his head out from his grasp and turned away, looking up at the ceiling again. "I can't do magic in here and you know it. Whole house is charmed against it since the Marge incident. Plus, I don't need my wand half the time. If we were in a normal house, I would have untied myself and hexed you into oblivion in no time."

Vernon stood up and grabbed Harry by the hair, dragging him off the mattress. It didn't quite work, however, because he was cuffed by the feet to the footboard, so he only succeeded in yanking him over so that his head hovered a few inches above the ground, his legs twisted awkwardly. "Don't you backtalk me, you filthy maggot! I won't stand with being threatened, not in my own damned house!"

Harry looked up at him, still fully composed, eyes blazing with hatred. "Then do it already."

He sneered at him, regaining his composure. "I might do just that."

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Come twilight, Harry regained consciousness. Groaning softly, he rubbed his now freed wrists and sat up. The familiar anger came flooding back, running through his veins like liquid fire. Normally, he would quench these feelings with his cold, impassive mask that he'd stolen from his most hated enemy; but not today. Today, he nursed it, stroked it, until it became an ebony blaze issuing from his very soul. One thing dominated his thoughts; revenge. Sweet revenge.

With a grin that could make a lunatic jealous, he stood up, not heeding the burning of his back, the welts forming on his rear, the blood trickling from his head into his eyes, or the numbing pain coming from his left cheek, where he'd most likely gotten his cheekbone broken. The fury melted all these petty pains into nothingness.

Silently, he gathered up his remaining dirty and ripped clothes and placed them in his trunk, alongside his quills, ink, wand, and Hedwig's empty cage. Luckily, he'd sent her out yesterday to deliver a message to Hermione. Closing the lid, he went over to his closet and retrieved his broom. A quick search led him to find the rope Vernon had tied him up with, which he used to tie his trunk to his broom. He opened his window and gently pushed his things out, so that it floated a few feet away from the house, level with the window, right above the sidewalk. With a smile, he shut the window.

He walked calmly down the stairs with the utmost care, skipping the third step, as it squeaked. He padded along the hallway, his worn shoes making no noise whatsoever. He could hear noises from the kitchen, the soft splash of water and the clangs of metal.

He moved into the doorway of the kitchen. Petunia's back was turned on him; she was looking out the window over the sink while she washed dishes, watching the neighbor's cookout. A swift flash of her swinging a pot at his head two nights ago blinked before his eyes, refueling his anger. He cleared his throat.

With a startled jump, she whirled around. Seeing that it was him, she sneered. "What, didn't get enough from Vernon this morning?"

With a sweet smile, he shook his head, took a step forward, and punched her in the face. The pot fell from her hands and crashed on the linoleum. She crumpled to the floor gracefully, landing in a not-so-graceful heap.

There was a horrendous hurricane of noise from the hallway, which only meant one thing; Dudley was coming down the stairs. He burst into the kitchen, his pudgy face red from exertion, blond hair askew.

"What- "

Harry didn't wait for him to finish his sentence, but grabbed his fat face in his hands and pulled it down, crashing his knee upwards to collide with his face. With a scream of agony, Dudley tore away from him, grabbing at his nose with his right hand, blood gushing through his porky fingers. With his free hand, he swung wildly in Harry's general direction, but the pain slowed his movements and Harry jumped away easily. He grabbed Dudley's shoulder, spun him around, and pulled him back into a headlock from behind. His left hand tangled itself in his gel-slicked locks, and his right bicep twitched in anticipation.

"I could kill you right now," he whispered hotly into Dudley's ear, a half-grin forming on his face. "After everything you've done to me, all the taunts, the chases, the pummeling, I hold your life in my hands this very instant." to emphasize his point, he tightened his hold around his neck for a moment. Blood trickled down Dudley's face onto Harry's arm, the sickeningly sweet smell assaulting his nostrils. He grinned, as Dudley began to whimper.

"Pl-please d-d-don't Harry. 'M s-sorry. So s-sorry." he blubbered. Power flooded through Harry's veins at Dudley's pleas. One quick snap, Harry realized, and he'd never have to listen do Dudley's tantrums again. He'd get all the bacon he wanted at breakfast, he'd get Dudley's room, he'd get Dudley's things, he'd get everything.

What he did not realize was that he was beginning to glow. A deep, dark red, the same color of Dudley's blood on his arm. He tightened his hold, choking off Dudley's air supply. With a squeak of panic, Dudley began to claw at the arm keeping him in place, nails raking down Harry's arm. When that didn't provide any results, he reached behind him and scratched at his face, leaving bloody gashes in their wake. Harry didn't feel it. Harry just smiled as he cousin went limp.

After Dudley ceased moving, and slumped in Harry's arms, he dropped him unceremoniously to the ground. The unconscious form wheezed unpleasantly at him. He kicked the boy in the ribs and sat at the kitchen table, in the head seat. The seat he'd never dreamt of sitting in. Grasping the teacup his aunt had apparently been drinking from before, he sipped at it casually. And waited.

Five minutes later, his uncle came in the front door down the hall.

"Petunia? Dudders? I've got some ice cream, come on downstairs." he called, walking into the kitchen. He stopped dead in his tracks, the bags he held dropping to the floor, staring at the fallen forms of his wife and son. His eyes caught Harry's, yet he made no movement towards him. The gangly teen was no longer as weak or frail as he had seemed this morning, tied up and demolished. Now, he seemed to be nearly omnipotent. Swathed in a bloody glow, he looked taller, more muscular, and more horrifying.

"You killed them." Vernon muttered, blinking at him dumbly. Harry smiled.

"And if I did?"

"You'll get put in that Azi-whatsit for your people. You won't get away with it," he said, his eyes wild. "You'll get put away."

Harry placed the teacup down, and stood up slowly, seemingly relaxed. "I doubt it. The wizarding world's in chaos. No one would notice. No Azkaban, no repercussions, no regrets. I could kill you right now."

Vernon straightened himself, and took several steps backwards, until the handle of the fridge was pressing against his back. "You can't. The house is charmed, you said so yourself."

Harry laughed, a genuine one. "What, you don't think I could kill you with my own bare hands? No one would care, I'm sure. It seems infinitely more satisfying than a quick spell."

"They'll figure it out."

"I won't care at that point."

If someone were to walk in on this scene, it would seem almost ridiculous. This young boy, unarmed, was terrifying this middle aged whale of a man, four times the size of him. It seemed as if all he had to do was sit on Harry in order to kill him. But, this was not the case.

Vernon's heavy brows furrowed together in confusion. "Wait... Why now?"

Harry's smile slid off his face, and he gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling for a moment. "Well... I suppose because before, I never wanted to." he looked at his uncle's baffled expression and sighed. "Before tonight, I never let myself get angry. Today, I decided 'Why the hell not?' and here I am. Once I got mad, I realized how very much I wish you dead."

"Then take bloody yoga, boy!"

Harry's eyes flashed. "Did you? Did you ever do anything else to relieve yourself? No. You'd yell until you couldn't yell anymore, you'd hit me until your own hand hurt, you'd beat me until you got tired. Why didn't you ever try to rein in your anger, just once?"

Vernon sputtered for a moment, unsure of how to answer. Deciding to keep him talking, he then hastily asked, "Well, then.. Then why wouldn't you care about getting caught, after you've... killed me?"

Harry grinned once more, pausing in his advance. "Because by then, I'd have killed Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy. And after that, I'll fight Voldemort, and I'll inevitably, loose. So, if they did find it out, I'd be dead by the time they came to get me."

Vernon began to edge away from Harry, trying to make his movements as unnoticeable as possible. "Boy... I-I looked after you for all these years... Ever since you were a child... Like my own son..."

Harry laughed, a tight bark of a laugh. "Really? Tell me, uncle-dearest, did you beat **Dudley** until he was unconscious, then wipe spit on his face?" Vernon opened and closed his mouth in outrage, but made no sound. The red glow about Harry grew deeper. "Did you ever starve **Dudley** until his muscles had deteriorated so badly he couldn't move, then laugh about it?" Vernon's toes lifted two inches off the floor as he began to thrash violently in terror. Pure, unadulterated fury etched Harry's features. "Did you ever beat off in front of **Dudley** while you forced **him** to shower in front of you?" Raw hatred cracked Harry's voice as Vernon's face began to turn slightly blue. Harry's hands clenched into fists, lips twitching. "I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU," he screamed, screwing his eyes shut, "WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST LOVE ME!"

Fighting off tears, he looked up at his uncle, now floating high above him, hair brushing the ceiling. Blood seeped out his nostrils, and his lips began to turn purple and swell. "Fr-"

Harry stared at him, confused. "What?"

There was an echoing snap, and a broken piece of gold fell to the floor. He recognized it immediately as Vernon's wedding band. His fingers had become so big they now resembled fat little sausages. The seams of his shirt stretched, his trousers bulging out as he was rapidly becoming too large to fit in them. Blood trickled down his earlobes. "Fr-"

His eyes became bloodshot, his head falling backwards as it was so swollen his neck couldn't hold its weight. His body began to shake slightly, as if he might explode. With the little strength he had left, Vernon rolled his head to his shoulder so that his bulging eyes locked onto Harry's. "_Freak_," he spat out, his voice thick and hoarse.

Harry's jaw worked, his face contorted into a horrid mix between pain and wrath. With soul-rending scream, he spread his arms wide, face tilted towards the heavens, and let all the hate he ever felt pour from his body. The light around him turned from dark red to black. And exploded.

Vernon's body twisted and convulsed in mid-air, blood frothing and bubbling from his mouth, until, finally, he gave one last guttural grunt, and fell to the floor from the air.

He was dead.

Harry collapsed, much like his world did around him.

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	2. Retreat

I've gotten 89 hits, and 1 review. Thank you to Cuthrin Khafre for taking the time to type out a response. It's not an ego thing that I want reviews, guys, I just want to know if it sucks or not. On with chapter 2.

He didn't know how long he lay there, next to his uncle's dead body, and the unconscious forms of his aunt and cousin, but after the black glow receded, and his thoughts were clear once more, he knew that he couldn't sit around and wait for hell to break loose. He slowly pried his eyes open, a sob wracking his body as he caught sight of the bloated body next to him. He scrambled to his feet, away from him, rubbing his eyes, trying to make the burning sensation caused by his own tears to cease.

He looked down at Petunia and Dudley, still exactly how he left them. Only now, Vernon's body was laying partially on top of Petunia. He couldn't just leave him like that.. No matter how much he hated Petunia, no one deserved to wake up with their husband's dead body on top of them. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Now how was he supposed to move Vernon? He was impossible to move when he was alive, never mind swollen and dead. And he couldn't very well use magic, as the house was charmed... But then again, he just killed his uncle somehow...

Deciding it couldn't hurt to try, he stared at his uncle, and envisioned him lifting up into the air. "Locomotor," he whispered forcefully. All of a sudden, Vernon's body lifted up a few feet off of Petunia, and hovered there. Harry's jaw dropped. Perhaps after Dumbledore had died, the charm on the house had worn off. But if that was true.. Wouldn't that mean he'd been going unprotected ever since he came back from Hogwarts? Shaking the thought out of his head, he walked over to the cupboard under the stairs and opened the door. Vernon followed him, and coasted easily inside, settling on the spider-infested floor. Harry smirked at the irony of it and shut the door and locked it. He went back into the kitchen.

Looking down at his aunt, he put his hand up to her lips. A puff of air touched his hand. He glared down at her. "Obliviate." He moved over to Dudley, and did the same to him. He then walked over to the doorway, where there was a phone on the wall. He took a deep breath. He had to call some sort of authorities... Otherwise it would make him look even worse. Now... Aurors, or the police? Aurors might figure it out too quickly. But if he called the police, the aurors would have an even bigger mess to clean up, taking the heat off him for a while. And if he was questioned why he called muggle authorities, he could simply say he panicked. Most people would have, anyway.

"Remember, be frightened." he muttered to himself. He had to seem panicky if that was going to be his excuse, right? Taking a few seconds to work himself up, promising himself he'd get caught, that his friends would hate him, everything and anything to get his adrenaline going, he picked up the phone and punched in 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Oh my god, oh my god, I don't know what to do, he was here, and now he's gone, and now they're dead, they're all dead, I don't know what to do, oh god help me.."

"Sir? Sir, please calm down. Who's dead?"

"I don't know... They might be alive, I don't know, but my uncle, I don't know where he is, and there's groceries on the floor and blood everywhere, and they're not moving, and-"

"Okay, sir, tell me where you live."

"What? Oh, uh, four privet drive, but what am I going to do? They're my only family, my only family, I don't know where to go.."

"I've got several officers and an ambulance on its way. Now just calm down, you're going to be alright. What is your name? And who is hurt?"

"Me? I-I'm Harry Potter, I live with my aunt and uncle... But my aunt, and my cousin, they're just laying there.. And my uncle's gone, I don't know where he is, but his things are all here, when'll they get here?"

"In about ten minutes. Are you hurt?"

"No, no, I was out for a walk... I came back and I saw him coming out of my house, and then he was just gone, and I came in, and the blood, oh god the blood,"

"Describe him to me, if you can, Mr. Potter."

"He's the fucking lord of death, you can't describe him, he's just there!"

"Are you familiar with him?"

"Listen lady, Voldemort's been trying to kill me ever since I was a baby, I'm pretty fucking familiar with him by now, alright? And he was here. I was supposed to be safe here, and he got in. No where is safe, no where... My god, what am I going to do..."

"Well, the ambulances will be there shortly, everything will be fine. You'll stay overnight with us so that he doesn't come back, and we'll protect you, okay? We'll keep you safe."

"No you won't. He'll kill you too. I can't be responsible for that, I can't, I can't anymore.. Merlin, I'm going to be sick, forget this.."

With that, he dropped the phone so that it hung off the receiver and walked away. Perfect. He walked outside quickly, not bothering to shut the front door. He looked up, nearly laughing out loud when he saw that his broom was still exactly where he left it, hovering a few feet away from his window.

"Accio Firebolt."

The broom zoomed down to him, parking itself a couple inches from his knees. He untied his trunk from it, and tucked the rope into his pocket. Opening the lid, he withdrew his wand, and quickly shrunk the trunk and tucked it into his pocket. Straddling his broom as sirens assaulted his ears, he zoomed off into the night sky seconds before the police pulled up to his house.

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Two days had passed after his incident when Hedwig returned to him. He was deep in the forest, sitting under a large oak tree, staring at the serene pond in front of him. Hedwig swooped low upon spotting him, landed on his shoulder and nipped at his earlobe.

He gave a start, jolted out of his daze, but calmed quickly after seeing that Hedwig was alone.

"What have you got there?" he asked, as she dropped to the ground next to him and held out a leg, a scroll tied to it. He untied it from her, and pet her for a moment before opening it. It was from Hermione, which wasn't surprising, but the contents of the letter were. He'd expected to get admonished, scolded, perhaps even receive a Howler. But that wasn't the case. In a very un-Hermione like fashion, the letter had consisted of three words. "Where are you?" Attached was a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Across the top of the paper, headlines screamed "The Chosen One missing!" "Family of Harry Potter Attacked! Muggle Relative Slaughtered!" "Wizarding World in Chaos!" There was a long, in depth article about what speculations were as to what could have happened, to where he was, and why he was in hiding. Some even thought he was dead. He turned the page, mildly interested as to what others thought, when another headline caught his eye. "Boy-Who-Lived's Frantic 'phone call' to Muggle Authorities!"

With a hiss of disgust, he threw it on the ground, and glared at it as if it might jump up and attack him out of spite. Hedwig hooted softly.

Harry sighed, sitting back down. "I don't want to go back.. I can't... Forgive myself." Hedwig flew up and landed on his head, plucking at his hair. Harry ignored it, eyes lowered. "What if they figure it out? That I'm a murderer? I'll loose everything."

Hedwig made a sharp sound and tugged at his hair harder. He yelped, pulling the bird off his head. She bit his finger. "Ow! Hedwig, stop that!" he said sternly, pulling away from her. She hopped back over to him and nipped his arm. He waved her away, and she flew up into the tree behind him, perching on the lowest branch, a few feet above his head.

"What if I blow up again, and hurt someone important to me? Hurt Ron, or Hermione, or Ginny?" He asked, head tilted backwards to look up at her. Hedwig ruffled her feathers huffily.

After several long moments deep in thought, he spoke once again. "But... I won't be around for long. Maybe I should spend the last few months with them?"

Hedwig jumped down from the branch and landed on his shoulder and nibbled his ear affectionately. He couldn't help the laugh that rolled from him. "You wanted me to say that all along, didn't you?"

With a hoot, she flew over to his open trunk and perched on it. He smiled. "Alright, alright, I'm coming." He stood up and went over to her, stroking her feathers thoughtfully. "I think it's strange that you're the only I can trust, and you're an owl." he mused. Picking her up and moving her to his shoulder, he shut his trunk and shrunk it, tucking it into his pocket as he had two nights before. He grabbed his broom in his left hand, his right hand resting on Hedwig's back. "Do you want a ride, or do you want to fly?" he asked. In response, Hedwig took off into the night, already guessing his destination.

With a snicker, he mounted his Firebolt and followed the shrinking speck of grey in the sky, the cool night air whipping past his face as he flew towards the only home he had ever known.

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	3. Reunion

1223 hits; 3 reviews. Once again, Cuthrin Khafre; thanks! 'Lizabeth, I appreciate it, and Myniephoenix, thank you. But at the risk of sounding like Oliver Twist; Please sirs/ma'ams, could I have some more?

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Hedwig arrived at the Burrow before him, perching on the rail leading up the front steps. It was nearly dark, the sun was just setting, as Harry landed in the Weasley's front yard. He chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully, staring up at the house, getting off his broom and nervously passing it from hand to hand. With a deep breath, he strode up onto the rapidly deteriorating porch and rapped on the door.

There was a clatter and a bang from indoors, and a small panel on the door slid to the side, and two eyes peered out at him. There was an audible gasp, and the door was ripped open, and before Harry could utter so much as a hello, he was wrapped up in the crushing embrace of Molly Weasley.

"Oh, Harry!"she exclaimed, kissing his forehead. "Where have you been? And dear lord, why are you covered in blood?"

He looked at her with a sheepish grin and shrugged. "I fell."

She released him and led him indoors. "Well, come in, come in! Everyone's eating dinner, there's so much to tell you."

She shut the door, locked it, and bustled into the dining room. After a moment, Harry followed. There was a silence, then a rush of noise as nearly everyone at the crowded dinner table jumped out of their seats.

"Harry!" the twins burst out in unison.

Ginny collapsed onto her plate and began to cry. Tonks stood up and gave him a short wave.

"Harry, you're back!" Arthur Weasley cried out, stepping forward and shaking his hand heartily.

However, anyone else's reactions were hidden by the sudden flash of bushy brown hair flying into his arms. Hermione jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. He paused for a second, than encircled her waist with his arms. They stood there for several seconds, holding one another, before Harry spoke.

"You alright, 'Mione?" he asked softly, looking down at her.

She snuffled noisily, and when she raised her face to look at him, her cheeks were shining with tears. "Don't DO that, Harry! I nearly died for worrying about you!"

Ron appeared at his side, and patted his back. "Don't worry about it, mate, she's been like this ever since... You know, the thing happened. Actually... Everyone has been." he said, looking at his mother and Ginny curiously. Harry, in spite of all that had happened to him, was tempted to laugh.

Hermione extracted herself from him, and straightened herself out, wiping at her tears. "Well, Mr. Potter, you definitely have a lot of explaining to do." she said, doing her best impression of Professor McGonagall.

He was about to reply, when yet another bundle of bushy hair attached to a sobbing female was launched into his arms. He held Ginny awkwardly, patting her back. Ron snorted, glaring at the ceiling in disgust. Then, before he could ask if she was alright, she had jumped away from him and scurried back to her place at the table, staring at her food sulkily. He blinked at her, then looked back at Hermione. "Erm, yeah. I do. But first, where's Fleur and Bill?"

Ron coughed, looking at Hermione. Hermione cleared her throat and looked down for a moment. "Well.. Um, Harry, they're in the kitchen."

"Oh good." he said, turning to go greet them. "Wait!" Ron cried, pushing him back. "Not a good idea, Harry."

He furrowed his brow. "Why, they in a fight?" Ron shook his head.

"No. But... Draco Malfoy's in there with them."

Harry's entire body froze, and his blood began to boil. "What?" he hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"No, no, no! Don't get angry, Harry, calm down and let us explain." she said, pushing him into a chair quickly and pulling up another to sit behind him. She reached over and grabbed his hands, holding them in her own. "Draco came here a few weeks ago, seeking shelter. See, he was supposed to be the one to... Kill Dumbledore. But, he said when he was there, he couldn't do it. So Snape did it for him, even though You-Know-Who had told Draco to do it. Needless to say, he wasn't very pleased, and went to give Draco the Dark Mark... And he panicked and ran. And ended up coming here."

Harry's jaw twitched. "He never stopped Snape. He just stood there. And fled with him. He never did anything to stop him."

"Which is something I regret every day."

Harry snapped his head up, locking his gaze onto Draco. He was dressed in Ron's clothes, several sizes too large for him. His hair was longer and unkept, hanging past his ears. He was thinner, the hollows in his cheeks making his cheekbones seem higher, more aristocratic. There were dark circles under his haunted eyes, and he no longer held himself up like a prince. Now his shoulders were slouched, and his posture resembled that of a beaten dog.

Harry stared at him for a long moment before regaining the power to speak. "Malfoy," he said.

Draco nodded at him. "Harry."

They stared at one another for a bit longer, before Harry stood up, pulling his hands away from Hermione. He walked over to Draco, standing a foot away from him, examining him. He was two inches taller that him, a fact that he enjoyed.

"I should punch you in the face, right now." he said, his voice emotionless. Draco glanced over at Ron.

"That's what he did when I first showed up."

Ron gave a nervous giggle, and Harry looked over to see him scratching his head, grinning sheepishly at Molly, who was glowering at him. Harry nodded.

"I see." He stuck out his hand. "So. You ready to do away with this rivalry and join the good side?"

Draco looked down at his hand, then back up at Harry, and smiled slowly. "Yes." he murmured, before slipping his hand into Harry's.

Hermione came up behind Harry, and tugged on his arm. He released Draco's hand, and turned to her. She led him back to his seat. Arthur gave her a nod of thanks.

"Alright Harry. I hate to do this to you, but I figure we may as well get it over with. The ministry has a few questions they wanted me to ask you if I found you. Would you rather do it now, or wait until morning?"

Harry shook his head. "Now."

"Good boy, good boy. Okay, first off, this here is a 'tape player'," he said, dropping a recorder onto the table. "I'm going to erm, 'play back' the 'tape' for you. It's a muggle recording of your phone call to the police. I just need to know if it's accurate."

Harry nodded. After fumbling with the buttons, Arthur finally pressed 'play', and Harry's panicked voice filled the room.

"Oh my god, oh my god, I don't know what to do, he was here, and now he's gone, and now they're dead, they're all dead, I don't know what to do, oh god help me.."

The room was deathly silent as the tape played. Fleur and Bill had come out of the kitchen to listen, the tears flowing down Ginny's face were coming faster than ever. Ron's face was a tad green, and Hermione had her fingers shoved in her ears. Fred and George both had their eyes lowered, Molly was busying herself by cleaning, and Arthur was staring at Harry to gauge his reaction. The only person who didn't seem to be affected by it besides Harry, was Draco.

The tape ended, and Arthur put it away. "Harry?"

Harry didn't meet his eyes. "Yes?"

"Was that an accurate tape?" Harry nodded. "Why didn't you call the aurors?"

"I panicked."

"Understandable. Why did you leave before the police got there."

Harry shrugged, staring at his lap. "I didn't want to have to deal with it. I needed to be alone."

"Do you know what happened to your cousin, aunt and uncle?"

Harry shook his head. "I came home and aunt Petunia and Dudley were on the floor, covered in blood. I didn't know where uncle Vernan was though, so I just called the police."

He looked down at the table again. His brow furrowed, and he nearly snarled as he glanced down at the recorder. A little red light was blinking. Arthur was recording him.

With a growl, he stood up, stormed over to the device, picked it up, and chucked it out the open window into the garden. He glared down at Arthur. "You want to talk to me, you talk to me. You record me, I don't talk. I won't have another damn paper advertising every tragedy that happens to me, complete with a tape of my reactions."

Arthur nodded. "Of course, I apologize. I didn't mean to, I just can't work those things. Anyway, let's move on, shall we?"

Harry went back to his seat, ignoring the stares he was receiving at his outburst. "Did you read about what happened?" Harry shook his head. Arthur sighed. "Well, apparently He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced entry into your house, and knocked both your aunt and cousin unconscious. He waited until your uncle came home, tortured him, most likely for information about you and your whereabouts, and killed him. We're not exactly sure how, it wasn't the 'AK' curse, but it was something far more powerful."

Harry didn't answer, he couldn't. More powerful than the 'avada kedavra' curse. Maybe he did stand a chance.

"Where were you when all of this happened?"

Harry looked up, eyes unfocused. "What?"

"Where were you? When all of this took place?"

Harry shrugged. "Around. I was frustrated, so I took a walk."

Arthur stared at him. "Alone? Unprotected? With death eaters on the loose?"

He glared at him. "There are worse things than death eaters, you know."

Arthur studied him closely. "Harry, where did you get all those cuts on you?"

Harry's jaw worked. "Like I SAID. There are worse things than death eaters."

Molly walked over to Harry slowly and put a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, dear, he's only trying to help. Did those horrible people hurt you? Did they hit you?"

With a snarl rivaling a wild beast, Harry stood abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor. He clenched his teeth, seeing red. Working to keep his voice calm, but unable to suppress the tremor of rage coursing through it, he said "I'd like to go to bed now."

Molly pulled back her hand as if she had been burned. Clearing her throat, she nodded. "Ron, Hermione? Take him upstairs?"

They both stood up, and Ron led the way out of the room. Harry followed, Hermione trailing behind, her hand on his back comfortingly. Ron went up the stairs, then paused in the hallway.

"Erm, please don't get mad... But... We're really crowded and stuff... I've got Bill and Ginny in my room; Ginny's loaning her room to Hermione, Fleur and Tonks, Fred and George are in their room... We've got Draco in the attic, and there's room for one more.."

"I don't care, Ron." Harry spat. "I just want to be alone at the moment."

Ron nodded. "Alright. Well, it's right up there," he pointed up to the trap door on the ceiling, "Me and 'Mione are going back downstairs. There's an extra bed in there, and there's sheets and stuff in the closet."

Harry nodded, then glanced over at the bathroom to his left. "Bye." he said, and walked over into the bathroom and shut the door before either of them could respond. He heard hushed voices, them talking about him, most likely, then the stairs squeaking as they descended.

He sighed in relief, and walked over to the sink, staring at the mirror above it, wincing at his reflection. His hair was greasy and slimy looking, hanging in his eyes and curling at his collar. His gray shirt was stained with sweat and dirt. His green eyes, unmasked by glasses as he'd forgone them long ago, were clouded and haunted. His left cheek was swollen and bruised, his right cheek had bloody nail marks running down the side of his face. There was dried blood on his neck and chest from where the cut on his head had bled. There were deep circles under his eyes, and he looked nearly as dead as he felt.

With a short growl, he pulled his shirt over his head, and ripped off his jeans, ignoring the fabric rubbing up against his open wounds on his back, and the jeans irritating the belt marks on his rear. Unwilling to look at himself, he turned on the shower quickly and jumped in before he could flinch away from the menacing stream of scalding water.

Air hissing from between his teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut, well aware of his flesh screaming in protest. Blood drained off his body and pooled at his feet. He washed his body quickly and efficiently, and blasted the cold water, nearly knocking the wind out of him at its suddenness. Jumping out of the shower and toweling off, he pulled his trunk out of his pocket and enlarged it. Throwing his dirty clothes into it and pulling out a fresh outfit, he re-shrunk it and changed. He was well aware that his shirt had holes in several places, and his jeans were ripped in one knee, but it was the best he had.

Shaking his head to rid his hair of any remaining droplets of water, he left the bathroom, walked straight past Ginny who was staring up at him with terrified eyes, and grabbed the string attached to the trap door on the ceiling. Yanking it down and pulling the stepladder down fully, he climbed up, and pulled it up until it slammed into place.

He looked around. It was actually not that bad. Draco had apparently changed things around a bit, as all the Weasley's old junk was off to a corner, and there was a silky blue cloth in front of it to hide it from view. The floor was bare, the wood rotting in a few places, but not that noticeable. There was a four-poster bed in the left hand corner, with a blue coverlet on top of it, Draco's bed, presumably. In the right hand corner there was a ratty old bed with a moldy mattress, sagging in the middle. Once again thanking god for inventing magic, he quickly charmed it to be larger, softer, fuller and cleaner, topping it off with a maroon cover.

He unshrunk his trunk once again, and pushed it to the end of his bed. Finally able to relax, he lay down on his new bed, and stared up at the cobwebs on the ceiling.

No sooner had he laid down, the floor opened up and Draco emerged. He nodded at Harry, pulling up the stepladder and standing up. He moved over to his bed, pulling off his shirt and putting on a pajama top. He moved under his covers and wriggled around a bit, changing his pants. Once he was finished, he sat up, his steely blue eyes locked onto Harry.

"You really created quite the upset down there." He said, watching him carefully. Harry snorted, turning onto his stomach and closing his eyes. Figuring that he wasn't going to respond, he continued. "You've got a lot of legal stuff Mr. Weasley wants to run over with you in the morning."

Harry groaned. Not because of what he had to do in the morning, he just didn't want to talk to anyone, least of all Draco. "Like what."

Draco shrugged, looking down at the covers. "Just.. Where you're going to live... Everything you're inheriting... I don't know much about it."

Harry looked over at him and glared. "Good."

Draco sighed and lay down. "See you in the morning, then."

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REVIEWS, DAMNIT! Harry's feelings will start to change within the next chapter or so, then onto slashy, angsty goodness!


	4. Revelations

Reviews have been trickling in, yay! And I've cleared 400 hits! Rejoice!

There are quite a few shockers in this latest chapter, I was feeling adventerous. That and I wanted to add in a few twists. And fret not! Slash WILL be coming! But the get-together wouldn't be nearly as satisfying if I didn't build a relationship between Harry and Draco first, no?

Thanks to my new reviewers! Bellartix-Voldielocks0o, Guinn Pern, darkfirebird1423, Blonde Dragon, Zikiya, and Linari Taris. I positively adore reviews, and thank you for honoring me with them! On to the new chapter!

By the way, I'm beta-less, so if there are any mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me. Thanks!

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Harry awoke with a groan, the light trickling in from the dirty skylight in the center of the ceiling making him cringe. Squinting upwards he heaved a tremendous sigh.

"Breakfast started 10 minutes ago,"

Harry made a loud noise of protest and gave a great show of turning towards the wall. "Then why aren't -you- there?" he asked groggily. He turned back over to gauge Draco's reaction, to see him sitting fully-dressed on his already-made bed. He had a notebook on his lap, and was twirling something, presumably a pen, with his fingers.

"I don't know." he said. After a slight pause, "Waiting for you, I suppose."

Harry sat up, glowering at him. "I'm not a pity-case, Malfoy."

Draco merely shrugged, closed his notebook, and shoved it under his pillow. "Get up. Mrs. Weasley made bacon and if we wait much longer, there's not going to be any left."

Harry paused. His growling stomach spurred him into action, reminding him he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. Getting up, his clothes rumpled and his hair off in every direction, he stretched and looked over at Draco. "Then let's get going."

Draco nodded, getting up as well, and walking over to the trapdoor. He lowered it, descended, waited until Harry had followed him, and closed it again. Just as Harry went to go down the stairs, Draco grabbed his arm. "Harry, wait. I want to warn you about something first."

Harry's eyes narrowed, studying him carefully. "About what?" Draco released his arm and dragged his fingers through his silvery locks.

"About what you should expect down there. They're going to give you a lot of stuff. They're going to make you decide things that're way to heavy to put on your shoulders. They're going to talk about Blac... Your godfather. They're going to ask you about Voldemort, and Dumbledore, and what you're going to do, if you're going back to school, where you're going to live. It's going to be rough on you, and I know that, because they did the same thing to me. I just want you to be prepared."

Harry stared at him for a long moment, emerald burning into blue. Finally, he nodded. "Thanks."

With that said and done, they both went down the stairs side by side. When they entered the kitchen, Harry sat down at the table and helped himself to the food without a glance in anyone's direction. It was sufficient to say he was still a bit upset from the previous night. Draco stood next to the door, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching Harry from behind. Ginny walked up to him and handed him a glass of orange juice, which he accepted. No one said a word.

Arthur bustled in noisily with an armful of papers. "Morning, Draco. Morning Harry." he said brightly, sitting at the head of the table and spreading out the parchment over his toast. Draco uttered a soft "Morning." in return, but Harry remained silent. Draco found his eyes on Harry once more. Even in his silence, he still commanded his full attention. He seemed so much different, more powerful... More foreboding in a way. If you looked into his eyes for too long, it seemed the fire that burned there worked its way into your soul, turning everything else into ash and rubble, until all was left were those haunted eyes. It wasn't natural.

"Nice sleep, Harry?" Arthur asked, completely unaware of the ferocity Harry was eating his bacon with while he glared at him.

"Lovely, thanks."

"Good, good." He looked around, and nodded when he saw it was only himself, Harry, Ginny, Draco, and Molly in the room. "Draco? Ginny? Would you mind leaving for a bit? Molly, you'd best accompany them, make sure none of the kids are eavesdropping."

Ginny immediately spoke up. "Dad! We're not kids anymore!" Molly shushed her, and began to shoo them both out.

"They can stay." Harry said, pushing away his plate and crossing his arms.

Arthur continued to study some of the papers before him. "No... No... Strictly legal things, here. Can't have underaged wizards and witches overhearing things to do with The Order and The Ministry, can we?"

Draco almost piped up that he wasn't underage, but stopped himself. Yes, he wanted to know what they had to say to Harry, but he didn't want to seem desperate. Fortunately, Harry was thinking along the same lines.

"Malfoy's not underage. He can act as my witness, in case the Ministry tries to screw me over again."

Arthur glanced up sharply, his eyes narrowing. After a long moment he attempted a weary smile. "Yes, I suppose. Draco may stay. Molly? Ginny?" he asked, looking at them expectantly.

"Oh yes, yes." Molly said, pulling Ginny out with her and shutting the doors behind her.

Arthur sighed. "Alright, down to business. Harry, as you know, there was a minor dispute on the ownership of Sirius' estate. However, it has come to our attention the Bellatrix Lestrange was killed several weeks ago, so now, you are allowed complete access to anything and everything that Sirius owned."

Harry didn't speak, he didn't trust himself to. He just nodded, prompting Arthur to go on, which he did. "This brings us to our next point, where you will reside. You've dropped out of school, yes?" Harry nodded. "Very well. Your aunt and cousin are under heavy medical care, and with your uncle now deceased, you can't very well go back to Privet drive. You are more than welcome to stay at Sirius' old home, however, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named may be expecting that. If you go on your own, you will, of course, be given auror protection; and if you're not ready, you're always welcome to stay here."

"I'm not exactly sure where I'm going to go yet."

Arthur scribbled down a few notes, before looking up at Harry again. "Now... The heaviest part of this meeting," Draco perked up a bit at this, "We found a letter in Dumbledore's office when we went in to inspect it. It was lying on his desk."

Arthur reached into his jacket and produced a large envelope with a red ribbon tied around it. It was very clearly labeled 'Harry Potter'. Arthur fingered the edge of it thoughtfully. "We had a bit of an idiot on the inspection team, and he tried to open it. It simply will not open for anyone, except you, presumably. Indestructible parchment, if I'm not mistaken." He looked at it, a wondering expression on his face. "It was almost as if he expected all this, you know? It seemed arranged almost perfectly."

His jaw working in agitation, Harry reached over the table and grabbed the letter away from him. Without a second thought, he ripped off the ribbon, shook the letter out of the envelope and leaned back to read.

"_My dear Harry,_

_Before I begin, I have a few instructions for you. This first page is for your eyes only, and I urge you to destroy it after you've read it. The second page however, is for the world. I ask you not to read that page until you are with a trusted Ministry official, and then, and only then, may you read it aloud for you both to hear._

_Now, if this letter has reached you in good health, which I'm sure it has, it should be very clear that I have not lived out this revival of Voldemort. Please do not be frightened or upset at my departure, everything happens for a reason._

_I want you to know I always saw you as something of a son to me. I wish I could be there to watch you grow, and conquer your fears, but the sad truth is that I'm just a very old man living in very dark times. I'm well aware that my death is approaching as I'm writing this, and I'm well aware that my death has taken place, as you're reading. Our own Divinations professor had another premonition in my presence, and I was informed that my death was drawing near. Hearing it was going to be a traitor from within my own walls, I began to snoop, as I'm so fond of doing. I've learned from a certain moaning ghost in the girl's room, that Draco Malfoy may have something to do with it._

_This brings me to my first request. I know that you and Draco may not get along, but there is one thing I am certain of. Whatever Draco is doing, he is being forced to do it against his will. He isn't the image of innocence, I know, but you must bring him back to our side. Rescue him from this horrible path his is being shoved down. He is a strong boy, but he needs your help. He is a death eater, yes, but sometimes, having an ally that can go into enemy territory is the best weapon of all._

_He may have some useful information about the Horcruxes. The reason why I've divulged so much to you is because I know that I will not be able to locate and destroy them all before I leave. You must do it, Harry. You must find them, and make sure Voldemort can never come back. Use Draco. He's cunning and sharp, he can help you._

_I ask of you not to discuss the contents of this letter to anyone, not even your friends, Hermione and Ronald. Remember, the ones that are closest to you, are the ones most in danger. Keep them safe._

_I wish you the best in life, Harry. I am proud of you._

_Albus Dumbledore_"

Harry cleared his throat and shakily folded the paper up and pushed it carefully in his pocket. He turned around, and looked at Draco, who was still watching him carefully. "Show me your arm."

Draco continued to hold his gaze for a moment, unmoving. Then, he uncrossed his arms, and rolled up his left sleeve, never breaking eye contact. Harry's eyes moved downwards, focusing on the blackened smudge on his inner arm. It didn't bear any resemblance to the dark mark at all. Draco quickly pulled his shirt back over it.

"I struggled when they did it." he said quietly, in explanation. Harry nodded, then looked over at Arthur.

"I'm supposed to read the second page aloud to a trusted ministry official."

Arthur furrowed his brow. "You can trust me, Harry. What is it?"

"I don't know." Harry said, shrugging. He picked up the second page and began to read.

"_I, Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, being of sound mind, do hereby proclaim the distribution of my assets. Firstly, I have two vaults in the Gringotts bank. One is my personal vault, ownership of which will be handed to Molly Weasley for certain... Investments. The second, is the vault for Hogwarts, and it's expenses. This vault, all my personal belongings, the deed to Hogwarts, and the position as Headmaster, will be passed on to none other than Harry James Potter. If he is unable to handle this responsibility, he does have the choice of leaving what he wishes to Minerva McGonagall to disperse as she wishes._

_Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore_"

For the longest time, the entire kitchen was quiet. Finally, Draco said in wonder, no more than a whisper, "Merlin's beard, he left you Hogwarts."

"I noticed." Harry snapped in return, staring down at the paper, as if the words were going to jump off the parchment and strangle him if he didn't look away. Draco's eyes drifted to the paper he held, noticing how badly his hands were shaking. Without thinking, Draco moved forward and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Listen... I've got to go shopping... Erm, I hate going by myself, you want to join?"

Harry looked up at him for a long moment, down at Dumbledore's will, then back at Draco. "Yeah." he muttered, standing up. He handed the paper to Arthur, and walked swiftly out of the kitchen, Draco at his heels.

Harry went into the living room, which was surprisingly, empty. Apparently Molly had ordered everyone upstairs for now. "Accio Gringotts key!" Harry said loudly, hand in the air. There was a small crash, then moments later, the key flew into his hand from the open window next to them. Must've come out the window in the attic. Pocketing his key, he looked at Draco.

"Ready, Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, going over to the fireplace, getting a pinch of floo from the canister beside it, and going on his way to Diagon Alley. Before Harry could follow, a flash of red hair flew down from the staircase.

"Harry, please don't go, I need to talk to you."

Harry looked down at Ginny, brow furrowed. "Were you watching us from up there?"

"Please don't go?"

He sighed, moving to walk away from her. "We'll do this later."

Ginny grabbed his wrist, and pulled him to her with surprising force. She took his face in both her hands, yanked him down, and kissed him on the mouth. "I don't know what's wrong with you, Harry, but I want to help."

He snarled and pushed her away from him. Ginny fell to the floor, looking up at him with a horrified expression. "... Harry?" she asked in disbelief.

Ignoring her, he threw a pinch of floo powder in the fireplace and shouted "Diagon Alley!" as he jumped in. He missed Hermione running down the stairs to Ginny's side, he missed Ginny bursting into tears... And he missed the look of pure fury on Ron's face as he gazed down at the scene below from the top of the stairs.

"What is WRONG with him!" Ginny wailed, curling into a ball and burying her head in her arms. Hermione hugged her, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she gazed at the now empty fireplace.

"I don't know, Ginny. I just don't know."

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Reviews? Pretty please?


	5. Regression

Linari Tanis: Indeed, Harry is very scary. Sort of the point, haha.

Blonde Dragon: Yeah, I seem to be putting down Ginny a lot, especially in the chapter. I have nothing against her, but she's not supposed to be with Harry! Draco is! And I appreciate the offer of a beta, but I think I'm gonna trudge along by my lonesome for a while. Thanks though!

Lady of the squirrels: First off, let me compliment the screen name. Badass. And I agree, the Dursleys did deserve it. But they're not out of the picture yet, don't count your chickens before they're hatched!

HarryANDdracoAREmentTObe: Are you aware that it's spelled "meant", not "ment" for your SN? I just thought someone should mention it. And I'm very glad you like my story! And I absolutely despise Vernon... Hence why I made him go buh-bye.

Beth: I'm sure you're not a jerk, haha. Beth's a cute name. I don't believe that anyone named Beth can be a jerk... It's like... Unnatural.

Darkfirebird1423: Well... Wow back at you! I think I shall write some more, just because of your enthusiasm!

Fallingshort08: Yeah, I thought Harry was entitled to getting good and angry at all the crap he's gone through. And if you like a MAD!Harry, you'll loooove this chapter.

Yami-hikari Kyoko: Holy moly, that's a big comment! Love! And thank you for all the lovely compliments. And as for the whole "Black" spelling error, I did that on purpose, actually. He's about to say 'Black', but then he realizes it may be disrespectful, so he says 'Your godfather' instead. Kind of like how Dumbledore always used to correct Harry whenever he said 'Snape'. Thank you very much for all your wonderful words! Haha, and yes, I WANT REVIEWS, DAMNIT!

Devo: H/D relationship is definitely beginning in this chapter, and I'm going to start having Harry see Draco in a different light soon. I don't want to give away anything, but can you say HURT AND COMFORT? You'll understand. ;)

Comments are appreciated! I'm going to start answering every review I get, just to be nice, and hopefully get a few more comments in the process. Especially because I give a few hints as to what's to come in my responses. Lord I'm pathetic. ONWARD, HO!

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Their shopping expedition wasn't incredibly eventful, there were no huge revelations, nor were there any life-changing moments to make Harry see Draco in a new way. However, the entire way, Draco explained what had happened to his family, how he'd grown up, the ceremony for the dark mark, Voldemort's fury, how he was in danger.

Harry was not stupid.

He was not naive.

He believed Draco, he did. But then again, Dumbledore believed Snape. Look at where that got him. He absorbed all that Draco said, never interjecting, only listening. He would mull everything over tonight.

In the back of his mind, he was marginally ashamed of going back to the Weasley's. He'd just practically thrown Ginny from him. But damnit, she deserved it. He NEVER let anyone touch him without permission. And she most certainly didn't have it.

"Harry. Want to go back, now? I can barely carry all these bags." Harry glanced over at Draco, who was carrying about seven huge, bulging bags of new clothes, books, and everything he needed to survive. Looking at him nearly falling to the ground from the weight, he smirked and grabbed two of his bags, already holding his four, and now two of Draco's.

"Alright, Draco, let's go before it gets dark."

He began to walk slightly faster, until he realized that Draco had stopped short. He turned back, brow furrowed. "C'mon." he ordered, jerking his head in the direction he had been heading in. Draco slowly walked over to him, his eyes narrowed.

"Harry."

"Yeah?"

"You just called me 'Draco'."

Harry stared back at Draco for several long moments before he snorted. "No I didn't."

"Yes you did! You said 'Alright, Draco, let's go before it gets dark.'"

Harry glared at him. "Shut up. Let's go."

Dropping several bags in the process, Draco's hand snaked out to latch itself onto Harry's wrist. "Listen, I appreciate you treating me like a human being, but it's not like you. What's wrong?"

Harry ripped his arm away from Draco and shoved him away, making him stumble several steps backwards. "I'm not in the mood for this shit. Let's go, alright?" Without waiting for him to respond, he strode away, leaving Draco alone to wonder what had happened to the infamous Harry Potter to make him turn so hateful.

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When they got back to the Burrow, both went into their room, unpacking their things and taking off tags. Neither spoke. Finally, both were done, and they both lay sprawled out on their beds, the sounds of the Weasley's below them the only thing filling the silence.

"When did we start fighting?" asked Draco, his voice monotone. Harry slowly sat up and looked over at the boy on the bed opposite him.

"First year. I didn't take your hand when you offered it to me."

"What did Mad-Eye Moody turn me into?"

Harry struggled to keep a grin off his face. "A ferret."

"What did I call you and Ron when I was mad?"

Harry watched him carefully, but Draco made no effort to make eye contact. Instead, he was looking up at the rafters with an unnatural interest.

"Potty and Weasel. Why are you asking me all this?"

This time, Draco did make eye contact. "I want to make sure you're still you. Or not under the Imperius. One last question."

Harry shrugged, motioning for him to continue.

"Where did you get those marks all over you?"

Faster than Draco could imagine, Harry's face twisted into a look of loathing and contempt. "It doesn't concern you." he spat.

Draco shrugged, looking upwards again. "Yeah it does. If you did them yourself, I need to know, because I don't want to have a psychopath in my room who'll kill me in my sleep. Vital information." He got off the bed and brushed himself off casually, a move that positively infuriated Harry. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I'll just go tell the Weasleys that you should be checked in to St. Mungo's." he said, walking to the center of the room and bending over to open the trap door.

Harry jumped off his bed, barreled into Draco, and slammed him up against the wall. "Don't you EVER threaten me." he growled, his face two inches from Draco's own. Draco didn't flinch. "I am NOT a psychopath, and I don't APPRECIATE being accused of being one."

Draco smirked back at him, looking exactly how Harry remembered him back in sixth year, while he snuck around planning to kill Dumbledore. "You seem pretty damn psychotic to me, right now."

With a snarl, Harry pulled Draco closer to him, only to slam him back into the wall, his head connecting with the rotting wood with a dull thump. "You want to know where I got these marks? Huh?"

Draco, with eyes burning with both pain and fury, nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"I got these from my uncle. My oh-so-fucking-loving uncle who used to beat the shit out of me nearly every day. Who would do the sickest things imaginable to a little kid just for the thrill. My uncle who used to starve me and lock me in a little five by four cupboard for weeks at a time. The man who put BARS on my fucking windows. THAT'S who I got them from."

A swirl of emotions arose in Draco's blue-grey eyes as he stared at Harry. The only emotions he could decipher were pain, and apathy. Damnable apathy, the very emotion he strove to avoid.

Before Harry could yell at Draco not to pity him, Draco rose his hand and dragged the tips of his fingers down Harry's cheek, tracing the scabbing cuts from Dudley's nails.

"What about these?" he asked quietly, eyes boring into Harry's.

Caught completely off guard, he smacked Draco's hand away and turned from him, walking quickly to the trapdoor, yanking it open, and descending. Draco couldn't really place the feeling that rose in his stomach at that very moment as Harry ran from him, but all he knew was that he was at an utter loss as to what to do. He wasn't used to dealing with temperamental and violent roomies. He was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. 'That was back then. This is now' he reminded himself. 'Now, you can't get whatever you want. You have to earn it.'

He finally moved away from the wall and went and lay down on his bed, feeling decidedly dizzy. He needed to wait a few minutes so he wouldn't bump into Harry when he went downstairs, anyway.

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Harry slammed the door into place, rubbing at his face with his hands, trying to rub away the feel of Draco's fingers. Fingers too long, too slender, too cold for a normal human. The look in his eyes, and his touch, had been nearly reptilian in a way. Yet, in another way, strangely enticing. A foreign feeling began to eat at him from the inside, goose bumps rising on his skin, yet, he felt as though his entire body was on fire.

He tried to shrug off how uneasy he felt, but he couldn't seem to do so. In his daze, he didn't notice Ginny standing in front of him, legs apart, hands on her hips, until he nearly bumped into her.

"Jesus, what're you doing?" he snapped, irritated to begin with. She whipped her hand back and smacked him, hard, across the face.

"You ass! How DARE you treat me like that!"

Harry smirked at her, a red hand print burning angrily across his cheek. "You forget, princess, you kissed me beforehand. And I'm not the one smacking people, here, you are."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "I thought you loved me. If you loved me, you wouldn't care if I kissed you. You'd WANT me to kiss you!"

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed her aside so he could go down the stairs. "I never said I loved you, Ginny." he said, his voice softer than usual.

Ginny stomped her foot, tears now flowing freely down her face. She gave him a hard, short push as he began to go down the stairs. "I hate you!"

He jolted forward, and if his hand hadn't been on the railing, he most likely would have fallen. He whirled around, and stormed back up to her. Grabbing both of her wrists in one of his hands, he pulled her against his chest and grabbed her under her chin, tilting her head back to look at him. "I could put you in so much pain, you'd forget who you are. Don't push me. I'll push back FAR harder." he whispered darkly. Ginny's eyes grew larger, terror flashing briefly through her bright brown orbs. His grip on her wrists became tighter. "You will not hit me. You will not hug me. You will not kiss me, and you will not push me. You will treat me as a friend, nothing more, and nothing less. If you don't like it, I dare you, I DARE you, to try to push me over the edge."

"O-okay." Ginny murmured, her voice cracking. He released her and went down the stairs, leaving her shaking in the hallway. She stood there, unmoving, for several long seconds that seemed like an eternity.

"Ginny?" Draco was across the hall, quietly closing the trapdoor. With a squeak, she ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He jumped, then slowly pulled her closer, into a comforting hug. "You alright?"

She shook her head, sniffling and sobbing, her head buried in his shoulder. "I wish he was back to normal. I wish he wasn't so weird towards me anymore."

Draco stiffened for a moment. "Ginny... Why do you want him to be normal? So that he'll stop acting like this and hurting everyone and himself... Or because you want to be with him again?"

She leaned back, glaring through her tears. "He didn't want to break up with me in the first place. He didn't want me to be hurt, like everyone else that's close to him. He still feels the same way, he just can't get over how stupidly protective he is."

He nodded. "Just wondering." he said. Apparently that was close enough to what she wanted to hear, because she leant forward again and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before moving away. "Thanks Draco. I needed that."

He nodded, restraining the urge to check his new sweater for snot. "Anytime."

Ginny never noticed the sticky blood dripping down from Draco's head to coat his back.

She never heard the low groan he uttered as she moved out of sight.

She never saw him collapse.

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Meanwhile, as Harry came down the stairs, Ron came in the front door. Upon seeing Harry, he reached out and grabbed his arm. "I've got to talk to you, mate. Take a walk?"

Harry shrugged, and allowed Ron to drag him outside. They walked around the side of the house to the backyard, which was thankfully deserted, and sat on a bench. Harry watched Ron expectantly.

"Alright. Now, you need to tell me what's going on with you."

Harry shrugged. "There's really nothing to tell." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Nothing? Bull. You've been yelling at everyone, you've been ignoring me and 'Mione, you've barely talked to Bill, Fleur, Fred or George, and what's worse, you've been yelling at my Dad, barely speaking to my Mum, and you've been treating Ginny like a prick!"

Ron had stood up at this point, waving his arms furiously, his face reddening. Harry's eyes began to glow softly with rage, but he tried to quell it. "Everything that I've said, or done, has been justified." he said quietly, struggling to keep his face impassive.

"Justified? Justified! You bloody threw my sister across the room!"

Harry stood up as well, not intimidated in the slightest that Ron was several inches taller than him. He met his furious stare head on. "Yeah, AFTER she kissed me. THEN, she hit me across the face, because she was pissed I didn't want her to."

"You don't hit a girl, ever, especially your best mate's sister!" Ron yelled, moving forward until he was a foot from Harry.

"I didn't HIT her, I PUSHED her away. There's a difference. You should worry less about how I handle keeping her the hell away from me, and worry more about her keeping her skirt on!" he bellowed.

With a cry of fury, Ron curled his hand in a fist and went to hit Harry. At the same time, Harry also let out a yell, only he lifted his arms into the air, causing Ron to be enveloped in a red glow and be lifted into the air. When Ron's fist met nothing but air, he yelped and began to flail his arms. "Harry! Harry! What the hell is going on!" he screeched.

Harry looked up at him, also emitting a red light. "You. Will. Not. Hit. Me." he snarled, his voice deeper than usual, nearly demonic. "I will not allow you, nor anyone else to hit me again."

Ron merely gaped down at him. "What..! Harry, let me down!"

Harry snarled, shaking his hands, making Ron shake as well, like a rag puppet. "Do you understand!"

Ron waved his hands back and forth, motioning Harry to stop shaking him. "Yeah! Yeah! Let me down!"

Slowly, Harry lowered his arms, and Ron came down just as slowly, before settling gently on his feet in the grass. Ron immediately sat down, looking up at Harry in wonder. "Bloody hell, mate. Where'd you learn that?"

Harry paused for a moment, before sitting down as well. "I just... Kind of did it."

"Was that the first time?" Ron asked, the stormy look now gone from his face, excitement and curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Erm... Yeah."

"That's amazing! We have to tell 'Mione!" he exclaimed. "She can go and look up stuff about it, then we can learn how to control it, and,"

"Ron!" Harry yelled, interrupting him. Ron stared at him, snapping his mouth shut. "I don't want anyone to know. I'm abnormal enough, you know? Let's... Just keep this between us for now, alright? A best mate secret?"

Ron beamed at him. "Right!" he said, sticking out his hand. Harry caught himself almost smiling as he accepted Ron's hand, and Ron shook it heartily. "But, have you decided what to do? With Hogwarts?"

Harry stared at him. "How did you know?"

Ron blushed. "Well, Fred and George found these things called walkie-talkies in a muggle shop, and we stuck one in the kitchen, one in their room. We heard most of what happened."

Harry paused. "I think I'm going to keep it. He left it to me... I suppose I should respect his wishes."

Ron nodded. "Bloody hell." he murmured. Harry looked up at him. "What?" he asked, confused.

"It's just.. Now you're going to be even MORE famous." he said with a sigh.

Harry's lips quirked up momentarily. "Hey, you hang out with me. Maybe you'll get in on a few pictures for the Daily Prophet. Then all the girls will come running." he said, trying to keep a grin at bay. Ron brightened immediately. "Hey, yeah!" he whooped. "Alright, c'mon. It's nearly dinner-time and we want to get there early before all the food's gone."

Harry didn't try to hide his smile this time as Ron pulled him to his feet and led him inside.

By this point Draco had been unconscious for 20 minutes.

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Oh no! Harry hurt Draco! Whatever will happen? I suppose you'll just have to wait and find out...

Reviews make me work faster. -grins-


	6. Recovery

Blonde Dragon: Haha, I really enjoy your input on each chapter. And I AM quite evil, this I know. I love to be so, it makes life just THAT much more enjoyable. And unfortunately, Ginny can't take a hint... So she'll definitely be meddling in Harry's personal life a bit more.

Devo: I could so leave him on the floor! I just CHOOSE not to! So there! .

Cassie: Haha, I'm glad you think my story's kickass, I think so too! And I'm incredibly flattered you've taken an interest in my personal life, in case you didn't see, I added you to my friends list on livejournal.

Surfygal6292: Harry's not a muggle killer, he was just in emotional distress. He's soon to show his good side. Actually, in this chapter! So read on and I shall change your mind!

Kris: Mmmm review! Yummy!

Slashysecrets: I dedicate this chapter to you, as you told me to write for you. So I am. . And yes, Harry probably would kill you if you tried to hug him. He's not in a very... Touchy feely mood lately. Or... Is he?

Draco8448: Please do keep reading! I like it when people read, it makes them smarter!

Fallingshort08: I hurried! I hurried! And Harry's not all that scary. Read on for some fluff!

Lady of the squirrels: No problem. I happen to like your screen name. It's very original, and humorous. Hence why I commented on it.

Hydeist89: Haha, that cliffhanger wasn't THAT bad. I could have done far worse but I decided to go easy on you people, haha.

Draco8448: Again! I love your enthusiasm! You remind me of a hyperactive chipmunk I just wanna squeeze! I don't know if I'd work faster with 100 reviews. Most likely, reviews inspire me and get me motivated. Whoo for reviews!

On to the story!

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The dinner table was surprisingly very enjoyable that night. Molly and Tonks discussed her inability to change her hair into a certain shade of green, Arthur and the twins were mulling over the joke shop, Ginny kept to herself, and Harry actually had a decent conversation with Hermione and Ron. He felt LOADS better after having Ron know about his new... Powers, so to speak.

He'd also informed everyone that he was going to keep Hogwarts. Not only that, but he'd be moving into Sirius' old house for the summers. And, to top it all off, the Order of the Phoenix was going to put up headquarters at Hogwarts as well, where it was most safe.

Harry'd be damned before he let Hogwarts be closed. And if that meant having to take it over personally, to insure Dumbledore's legacy continued, so be it.

"This is great!" Ron said happily through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "Now I'll never get in trouble!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh. Hermione scowled, "That's not true. A good headmaster doesn't do 'favorites'. Right, Harry?"

"You mean you don't want an all-access pass to the restricted section in the library?"

Hermione's eyes lit up and she threw her arms around him. "Favorites are good! Oh, Harry, that'd be wonderful!"

Ron snorted and quickly picked up his glass of pumpkin juice and began to drink to cover up his laughter. Hermione released him and studied him for a few moments. "But don't you think you should wait a bit? I mean... School starts in a week. Are you ready for that responsibility?"

Harry smirked. "'Mione, I've had hundreds of death eaters out for my blood. I've been attacked by giant spiders, I've been kidnaped by Voldemort, I've ridden a bloody hippogriff to save my godfather from dementors; I think I'm capable of running a school."

Hermione shot him 'the look'. He rolled his eyes. "Listen, I'd be worried if Fred and George were still going, but they're not. Everyone else that even comes CLOSE to the title of 'troublemaker' pales in comparison to those two."

Fred and George paused in their explanation of a new prank that included a cat that could flatten itself out, then pop back up to its normal size to scare those who thought they'd just run over it, to look over at Harry and graciously thank him for the compliment. This included bowing.

Hermione shook her head, muttering about "Juvenile Weasley's", which of course got Ron going, and then, per usual, their bickering started up again.

"Where's Draco?" asked Ginny, speaking for the first time that night.

Harry shrugged. "Don't know. I'm done though, so I'll go track him down."

Molly looked up from examining Tonks' hair pigment. "Tell him if he gets hungry, I saved him a plate."

Harry nodded, clearing off his plate and putting it in the sink before walking upstairs. Just before he got to the landing, he saw the crumpled form on the floor right near the trap door, that had apparently fell open as it hadn't been closed all the way. He bolted over to him, picking him up without even thinking about it. Cradling the unconscious boy to his chest, he looked down at the floor, relieved to see that there was no blood. He all but ran up the stairs and placed him down on his own bed, as it was closer, and quickly went back to shut the door.

Biting his lip, he knelt beside Draco, prying one of his eyes open. No response. The blonde's hair was sweaty and stuck to his forehead, instead of how it usually hung loosely around his face. His normally pale cheeks were flushed and he was positively burning up.

"Shit, shit..." Harry murmured. Upon examining him further, he noticed a small line of blood on the side of his neck. Brow furrowed, Harry rolled him over as gently as possible. With a grimace he then saw the back of Draco's head matted with blood. Muttering a quick cleaning spell and centering on his inner magic, he quickly got the mess cleaned up, so he could see the actual wound better.

It wasn't that large, nor was it that deep, but it was definitely ugly, and definitely required attention. With a low groan, he realized that not only did he have the cut, but there were slivers of wood IN the cut. He paused for a second, before muttering "Accio splinter."

One of the many splinters flew from Draco and lodged itself in Harry's open hand. He hissed, glaring at the back of Draco's head. "Bloody git... Always getting in trouble..."

After around five minutes, all the splinters had been removed from Draco's cut, and transplanted into Harry's hand. Harry hurriedly yanked them out with his teeth and spat them to the floor, ignoring the dull throb in his palm. The wound had begun to bleed a little, from the rough treatment.

Harry leaned back on his heels, running his hands through his hair, at a loss for what to do. "I don't know how to heal... I don't FIX things, I BREAK them. That's all this bloody power gives me, the power to destroy." he said miserably. "And I can't get the Weasleys... They'll call the aurors, and I'll be off to Azkaban and I'll NEVER get the horcruxes... Merlin this was a mistake. I should have never come back."

He sat there, consumed in self pity for several more minutes, before he thought of how the longer he waited, the worse off Draco could be in.

Every darkness had it's light.

Every night had it's dawn.

And with this dark, mysterious power, there must be SOME way that he could help Draco.

Standing up, he hovered his hands over the one below him, and closed his eyes. He shoved all his anger, his insecurities, his pain to the very back of his mind, and concentrated on one thing: Draco. He focused on that ugly cut closing up, his fever going down, those stunning blue-grey eyes to open again without being fogged over by pain, on him sitting up and making a snappy comment on Harry's stupidity for ramming him against a wall, for him to be awake.

The harder he thought about him, the larger the lump in his throat seemed to get, and the more determined he was to do this. He pushed himself farther and farther, until finally, he felt the magic within him begin to stir, like a sleeping dragon waking from its slumber. Slowly, it filled his entire body, seeping through his pores, and moving about in the air around him. He felt so much more powerful than he did when he was being destructive, he felt... Almighty.

He began to emit a soft green light, only this time, instead of it hovering about him like a blanket, it traveled down towards his hands, where it became more concentrated. With one final burst of energy, Harry focused with all his might on Draco once again, and the light in his hands shot downwards into Draco. Harry felt the magic leave him, and he opened his eyes at the loss, to see the green energy envelop Draco, swarming and swirling about him. The wound on his head slowly closed, and the light seemed to push him onto his back with hundreds of tiny hands.

Then, it entered Draco's body, and seemingly coursed throughout his system, before quickly leaving Draco and shooting back inside Harry.

Harry stumbled back at the return of his magic, still in awe at what he had done. He knelt on the bed, gathering Draco into his arms, and pressing his ear next to Draco's lips. When he felt the steady puffs of warm air, he nearly let out a 'whoop' of triumph. He pulled Draco against him more, until he was nearly in his lap. He rocked him back and forth, smoothing back his hair, desperate for the contact with the one he'd hurt.

As twilight crept up upon them, Harry lay down, lowering Draco with him, keeping his arms tightly around the other, as if he were afraid to loose him to the depths of the night. Soon, Harry's breathing evened out, and his grip on Draco's waist loosened slightly.

Draco rolled over, so he was facing Harry, and studied the sleeping boy's face. He'd been awake ever since Harry had healed him... He just had felt no need to advertise that fact. Why was Harry being so delicate with him now? Because he felt bad?

Coming to the conclusion he didn't really care, he relaxed in Harry's arms, closing his eyes. "Night, Harry."

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Short, yes; but that's only because I'm incredibly busy lately. Only a week till Hogwarts is open again! Eek, Harry better get ready! And how's he going to react to Draco in the morning! IF YOU REVIEW, YOU SHALL FIND OUT!


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